Sailor Shinigami: The Sequel
by xxPinkyxx
Summary: The sequel to my first and incredibly stupid fic, Sailor Shinigami. Don't worry folks, this ones just as stupid! A certain someone discovers a sailor scout costume, and Trowa finds out where the pixie stix had been hidden. R&R!!


Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or its characters (yet…) so don't sue! I do own this here plot though!

A/N: I am very sad to say that try as I might I was unable to keep the GW boys in character. So yes, they are very much OOC. But hey, you try making Trowa in character while high on pixie stix!

General Warnings: Pure stupidity ahead. The authoress has completely lost all sanity and while in the process of finding it, wrote this. 

You may proceed…

Sailor Shinigami: The Sequel

The Return of the Pixie-Stix singer and Sailor Shinigami

By Pinky

Chapter One

"Spring Cleaning"

And now the authoress will start the fic in the most cliché way she can think of:

It was a dark and stormy night………

WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Ok, ok. I'm kidding. 

Actually it was rather sunny and there was a slight breeze coming from the southwest. And it was morning. Monday morning to be exact. Oh and there were birds chirping. Can't forget the birds. Dose are nice birds…Anyways…

It just so happened to be the first day of everybody's favorite thing (drum roll please!…::crickets::…er…) spring-cleaning! (Well, it's my favorite thing anyway…going through all your old stuff and reminiscing about your childhood…oh the memories!) Which was unfortunate for those poor G-boys. They had been staying at Quatre's and thus, they had to help him with the cleaning. (Quatre was too stingy to hire maids.) Since Quatre enjoyed cleaning, he put himself in charge of the 4 other boys and assigned them areas of the Winner Estate to clean. Heero was assigned to the living rooms/parlors/dens. Duo was put in charge of all the bedrooms, Trowa was in charge of the kitchen and all the hardwood floors. Wufei was assigned to the bathrooms, all 15 of them, which left him stomping off in a fit of Chinese swearwords. Which was understandable considering no one has even been in some of the bathrooms for quite a while. Quatre had put himself in charge of the windows, just because he personally found a great joy in washing windows. This will forever be a mystery to all, so we won't ask.

At the moment Duo was sitting in the middle of his bedroom floor, pondering how he would begin the process of cleaning his room. He estimated that it would take all day to clean it considering the last time the room had been cleaned was a year ago. That and he really didn't want to know what was under the piles of clothes and various other things on the floor. For all he knew there was probably a family of rabid wombats living under them. He really didn't want to be picking up his underwear pile (which was 2 feet 4 inches high) and get attacked by a rabid baby wombat. Because then after that would come the angry rabid mother wombat. Duo personally thought there were better ways to die. 

He decided it would be a good plan to start with his bed. He hopped, jumped and grande jetteed (spelling? I could use some right now) over the underwear mountains to his bed. At least he thought it was his bed. You really couldn't tell. Duo only slept in one small corner of his bed, so the rest was also covered in clothes and such. Mostly underwear of course, because of his secret underwear fetish. Especially for the silk heart boxers. And tightie-whities. 

First things first, he grabbed all articles of clothing, books, magazines, porn videos (what? He's a GUY after all…) and anything else that was not his bed sheets and blankets, and threw it all amongst the other piles of crud on his floor. Since Duo didn't know how to make his bed, he just smoothed out the wrinkled blankets somewhat and fluffed the pillow. 

And now, it was time.

Time to venture where no man has ventured in the past few years.

Under

Duo's

bed.

Duo hadn't looked under his bed in the past few years. He didn't bother cleaning under there during the other spring cleanings. Actually, his idea of cleaning before was to shove as much stuff under his bed as he could. But he couldn't do that anymore. There wasn't any room under his bed. Quatre had told him if he didn't clean under his bed, he would force him to share a room with Wufei. Now THAT was something nobody wanted to do. 

Before Duo ventured below his bed, he decided that he must take some necessary precautions. These included donning protective gear such as goggles, rubber gloves, a rather large hair net, a mask, and a ruffled, flowery apron (he liked the ruffles…). For defense against any wild animals/zombies/or the boogieman that might come flying out from under there, he grabbed a toilet plunger (it may not sound very lethal, but how would you like a toilet plunger stuck on your face? And then it would leave a nasty red ring around your face. Like one giant hickey. Plus it smells. I mean, its been in the toilet! Oops, I'm rambling. On with the fic!).

Now that he was prepared, he flung himself to the floor, and very slowly reached his hand out to pull the dust ruffle up. He was soon greeting by a rancid smell. It smelled like…a rotting corpse and tuna. It wasn't very appetizing. And neither was the sight of the stuff crammed under his bed.

After staring at it for a while, Duo decided it looked like puke j-ello with a few socks and under wear sticking out of random places. And the occasional arm and leg. 

Duo put the dust ruffle back down. Now was just not the time to start under his bed. So he removed the protective gear and moved to the closet. He supposed he would have to clean that out in order to put away the crap on his floor. After a massive sigh of doom, he opened the closet door, and was soon toppled over by a large pile of who knows what that had been shoved in his closet.

*

Cupboards.

Fifty-six cupboards to be exact. Each and every one of them full of dishes or food. Trowa had just reached his 4th cupboard of the day. It was already 2 o'clock. His future looked dim. He'd be spending the next couple of weeks cleaning out cupboards. He was about to lead a very sad and pathetic existence. 

But of course there was always the radio. Nothing like listening 94.5, Grooving with the 80's. Trowa's personal favorite, What A Feeling, just so happened to be playing at the moment. It was enough to lighten his mood and take his mind of the fact that all he would be seeing for a while was the inside of wood cupboards. Trowa would of course, never let the other pilots in on the fact that his passion was 80's music. 

While What a Feeling(which by the way, sadly, I don't own.) blasted through the large kitchen, Trowa slightly bobbed his head to the beat and mouthed the words while he went through can after can of creamed corn. After 27 cans he was about to decide that going through the rest of the cupboard would be pointless considering there was just another row of creamed corn cans inside when he spotted a green wrapper sticking up in the back. He threw the rest of the cans out and saw in the very back corner of the cupboard, a jar of perfectly preserved Pixie Stix (another thing I don't own. ::cries::). 

His mouth watered, his body tingled. Oh how he began to long once more to feel the rush of the pure, tangy sugar flowing through his body. Quatre had hidden these a while ago, after Trowa had overdosed and ran through the house singing Pop tunes (That was during his Pop stage.) The withdrawal had been horrible, leaving Trowa miserable for a month. He had been fine for a while now. But now the Pixie-Stix were in front of him once more. 

With a trembling hand he reached in and took hold of the jar, pulling it out of the cupboard and setting it on the counter top in front of him. 

There they were. Unopened. Pink. Green. Blue. Purple. Pixie-Stix. His hand grasped one of the thin tubes of sugar and took it out of the jar. He paused a moment, thinking whether or not he should have it. After all, there was a reason why they had been hidden from him. 

2 minutes passed and Trowa decided one wouldn't hurt. He ripped the top off of the tube and brought it up to his nose, taking in the smell of blue raspberry (I think that's the flavor, if not you can correct me), sending his senses into overdrive. He brought it to his lips, hesitated, and then dumped it into his mouth. 

It instantly took over him. Just one pixie stix had done it. There would be no stopping him now as he reached for more.

A/N: I have decided to end this chapter just for the hell of it. You know, cuz I can. I am the all powerful authoress. WAHAHAHAHAHA! Yea anyways you can go review now!

Ja!

Pinky


End file.
